


Gold in the summertime

by yourbuttervoicedbeau (kiwiana)



Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [45]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, How many more fluff tags can I cram in do you think, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, POV David Rose, Post-Episode: s05e14 Life is a Cabaret, Schmoop, Tenderness, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-09-16
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26493034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiwiana/pseuds/yourbuttervoicedbeau
Summary: The car ride is silent all the way back to the apartment, but it’s the kind of silence David didn’t know existed before he met Patrick; two people so inherently comfortable in each other’s company that they don’t feel the need to disturb the quiet. It’s not a long drive between the motel and Patrick’s, and it’s a trip they’ve done a thousand times by this point, but David spends those few minutes twisting his engagement rings around and around on his hand as though he could burrow them all the way into his skin and seal them there.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Songs from the Jukebox [Prompt Fills] [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1775569
Comments: 52
Kudos: 256





	Gold in the summertime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ships_to_sail](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ships_to_sail/gifts).



> Sometimes the world sucks, and what you need is just tenderness all the way down. 💞 
> 
> Title is from Matt Nathanson.

The car ride is silent all the way back to the apartment, but it’s the kind of silence David didn’t know existed before he met Patrick; two people so inherently comfortable in each other’s company that they don’t feel the need to disturb the quiet. It’s not a long drive between the motel and Patrick’s, and it’s a trip they’ve done a thousand times by this point, but David spends those few minutes twisting his engagement rings around and around on his hand as though he could burrow them all the way into his skin and seal them there. They’ve only sat there for a day but already, they’re the only thing grounding him through the uneasy feeling churning through him after the derailed engagement announcement and his mom’s bad news. He wonders, idly, if Patrick had these modelled on his silver rings for that reason — if he saw how David wields them like a shield, sometimes, and rather than telling David it’s no longer needed he instead just wanted to add a piece of himself to David's armour. 

It’s Patrick. Of course Patrick would have seen that, even if he couldn’t necessarily articulate it, because no one has ever seen him like Patrick does.

When they pull up outside Patrick takes David’s left hand in both his own, pressing a kiss to the palm even as he runs his thumb along David’s ring finger where two of the rings are sitting. His touch is reverent, as if he gets as much comfort from feeling them there as David does, and his already-expressive eyes are almost unbearably loud framed by the remnants of his stage makeup. He releases David’s hand with what looks like reluctance in order to get out of the car, and David follows him into the building and up the stairs to the apartment.

Last time they crossed this threshold together — god, was it really only twenty-four hours ago? — it was in a frantic tangle of tongues and limbs, David’s pants already half undone and Patrick’s sweatshirt dangling forgotten off one wrist by the time they slammed the door behind them with Patrick pressed up against it. And maybe Patrick is thinking about that too because as soon as he’s unlocked the door he reaches out to lace their fingers together, the touch a gentle reassurance as they enter the apartment before they have to break apart to take their shoes off. Then Patrick takes his hand again, leading him over to the couch and waiting for him to sit down before he clambers into David’s lap and threads his fingers gently through his hair. Because Patrick always knows what he needs and right now what David needs is the weight of him, solid and warm and real.

“I just—” David starts, and even though they’re the first words he’s uttered since before they left the motel room Patrick just looks at him like it’s already the middle of a conversation, patient and fond. “I feel awful for Mom; I  _ do. _ And this seems so petty in comparison. I just wanted us to have that moment.”

“I know you did, David.” Patrick’s fingernails are scratching at his scalp now and David can’t help leaning into the touch, increasing the pressure just a fraction. “And it’s not petty. I’m sorry we didn’t get it.”

David’s stomach flips at  _ we. _ Because this was all him — his need for attention, his desire to brag to everyone he knows that Patrick  _ wants to marry him _ — and instead of brushing it off or tolerating his dramatics Patrick has unquestioningly and uncomplainingly made his wants theirs.

He wraps a hand around Patrick’s neck — his left hand, and he doesn’t miss the way Patrick leans almost unconsciously into the sensation of the rings on his skin — and pulls him in for a kiss, deep enough that he can lose the sob welling up in his throat into it if he needs to. When Patrick pulls back to give him a gentle smile David runs a thumb along the corner of his eye.

“Well,” he says, “I’m sorry I made such a compelling argument for you leaving the eye makeup on tonight, and now I’m all…” he trails off as Patrick’s face flickers into a slight frown. Apologising for not being up for sex is a habit David broke a long time ago and he hopes Patrick realises that that’s  _ not _ why he’s saying sorry, and after a moment Patrick’s face clears and David thinks maybe he does understand.

“We’ve got the rest of the run for that, David,” Patrick says softly.

“The rest of our lives,” David corrects him, just for the selfish pleasure of watching Patrick’s face break open into radiant joy. Because Patrick has been the one to lead them patiently through most of the milestones of their relationship, David following anxious but hopeful behind, and apparently the four gold rings on his hand and the number of times they whispered  _ fiancé  _ into each others’ sweat-slick skin last night hasn’t done anything to dim Patrick’s unabashed delight when David is the one to bring their future up first.

“Yeah we do,” Patrick breathes before schooling his face into the teasing expression David is so used to. “Do you have a lot of eyeliner lying around, David?”

David brushes a thumb under his eye, his touch as gentle as Patrick’s is when he can be persuaded to apply David’s under-eye serum. “For this look I’d buy a hundred of them, if you wanted me to,” he says quietly, and he suspects the joke in the words is lost behind his tone and the intention underneath it, which is  _ anything you want, anything, anything. I’ll make it happen. _

Patrick’s smile softens again, because Patrick hears him, knows him, loves him. “I’ve got everything I want right here,” he says simply. And if he says it every day for the next forty years — and David suspects he will — David will never tire of believing him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Come and find me on [Tumblr](http://yourbuttervoicedbeau.tumblr.com).

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[Podfic] Gold in the summertime](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26838529) by [fairmanor](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairmanor/pseuds/fairmanor)




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